After Natasha Tretheway’s “Rotation”  

My father was both moon and sun to me—
a conqueror returning each evening, often with a treat.
He played cards with me, letting me win, I’m sure.
With wonder, I looked up at him, filled with light.  

Sitting beside me, he taught me Casino
and how to play Patience like in Vegas, but for pennies.
When I looked up at him I saw his face
and then his hands, fingers confident on the cards.  

When he stood in the doorway of my room
I trusted him, I knew he’d keep his promises. 
He came in, light-footed, happy to see his darling daughter.
I don’t remember when he turned to go.  

In the dark, in my room down the hall, I knew he watched
and would protect me.  I couldn’t see a time
that he would not be there, a time he’d turn away
like a moon setting, a sun behind clouds.